


You're not one of the angels, my dear.

by Seabiscuitthesniper



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seabiscuitthesniper/pseuds/Seabiscuitthesniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short series of drabbles featuring Jim Moriarty and/or Sebastian Moran. Character studies, extra scenes from episodes, possibly some including murder? May be continued, no guarantees though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're not one of the angels, my dear.

**Author's Note:**

> All sorts, this is just me practicing my writing and characterization. Some domestic, some violent, some character studies, although I can pretty well guarantee there will be no slash in this (not descriptive or anything) but there might be references to it.

‘You’re _not_ one of the angels. How fascinating’ Moriarty smirked the first time he met his favourite sniper. Seeing as they’d just met, Sebastian Moran just looked at him oddly and nodded like he knew what his new boss was talking about. 

 

Now now… how interesting. I said kill and what did you do?’ It was rhetorical, of course, But he answered anyways. 

‘Kill’ 

‘Most people would at least question it though, Sebby dear.’ The professor murmured as if he was befuddled. ‘You see, everybody fancies themselves a criminal, a psychopath. Thinks that they'd kill someone if the opportunity presented itself. Who would blame them? It’s just _so much fun_.’ He continued with that drawl that was just so distinctly Moriarty, slowly stepping closer and closer towards the sniper. ‘But really they’re about as threatening as a luminous rabbit. But you.. you’re different. You’re _special_.’ Jim said, raking one of his finger nails down Seb's arm. Now, Sebastian Moran hadn’t had much experience with being called special, but if those deliciously frightening chills went down his spine every time he was, well he might just make an effort to be more special. Just for him, though. Just for Jim. 

‘Everyone else is just so _boooring,_ my dear. But you...’ he trailed off, smirking, leaning over to whisper in Moran's ear. ‘Well, this is going to be _so_ much fun.’ 

 

 

‘Jimmy, I’m disappointed.’ Sebastian mocked as he wiped the fake blood off his boss after his near fatal run in with that blasted _Sherlock Holmes_. (Yes, he thought that name with so much disdain that it required italics) 

‘What are you on about?’ Jim growled, grabbing the towel back from Moran. ‘What the hell are you on about, Moran.’ 

‘Touchy touchy..’ Sebastian murmured. Raising his voice, he added: ‘I was talking about your whole ‘angels’ quote back there. You used it with Sherlock Holmes of all people? 

‘Don’t start acting all jealous, my dear. T’was merely in jest.’ 

‘Well, Jesters oft do prove prophets.’

‘King Lear? A shame, I’d figured you would go with Macbeth. You were always one for tragic endings.’

‘Apparently so are you, nearly blowing your brains out like that. Do me a favour and try not to do that, yeah? You’re the least awful boss I’ve had.’ Seb said, the strain in his voice not concealed nearly well enough for Jim to miss it. 

‘Well of course I am, you thought you’d gotten all those awful bosses by accident? No, that was to make me seem like the better offer. Which wouldn’t have been hard anyways. Really, darling, everyone just finds me so very intoxicating.' He continued, raking his nails up and down Seb's forearm. 

‘Ah, so when my house burnt down that was yo-‘ Seb continued, ignoring the constant chills that Jim was sending down his spine and goddammitJim he though, stop trying to distract me. 

‘But of course.’ Moriarty grinned (which was quite eery on it’s own, let alone when casually discussing the burning of ones house.) How else was I supposed to get you to move in with me?’

‘Wouldn’t have taken long, really.’ Moran admitted reluctantly, giving in to Jim's constant teasing and the small red scratches left on his forearm. 

 


End file.
